An Execution — Gather together three or four ordinary people. Let them meet in a businesslike environment—a conference room, a grade-school classroom after school hours, a hotel room that is part of a suite so the bed is out of sight. These three or four people are going to decide to put someone to death. They are not government officials, rogue CIA agents, Mafia lieutenants—they're just plain folks. And the person they choose to execute is also a run-of-the-mill person just like them, except he is slated for death.Constructive criticism is welcome.
A broad man sat, ornate table in the center of a decorated room. Removing his lips from a chicken leg, he asked a question of the 3 others who sat at the table with him. “Why do you think we’re here?”
The man who sat directly across from him—with exaggerated facial features that made him appear rodent like—looked up from his plate. He had been closely observing the most tender bit of beef, which had been seasoned and smoked to perfection, but his eyes darted quickly to the other man and then back to his food. “It doesn’t matter. Be happy. Eat something and be quiet.”
“Yeah. It’s not often that the benefactor invites people into his home for a feast,” said the busty woman as she plucked grapes from the stem. “We might as well enjoy it.”
The broad man stood up, backing away from his plate. “That’s just it. Have you ever met anyone who’s been in here before?” He walked over to the glass wall the overlooked the walled entrance. On this side of the wall was a beautiful fountain surrounded by an unimaginable elaborate garden. On the other side: barely inhabitable ruins. “It seems odd.”
“Hey, I recognize you now,” said the rodent fellow pointing at the broad man. “You’re the butcher, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I am.” The broad one turned around. “I don’t know you. Who are you? Some kind of scavenger?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” He said, leaning back in his chair. He turned to the busty woman but didn’t look her directly in the eyes. “I’ve heard stories about the cut of his meats,” he chuckled. “I’m sure he’d be willing to make you some kinda deal for a nice dagmeat ste—.”
A forth voice finally made itself heard. “Shut your mouth, scavenger.” A darkhaired woman sat low to her empty plate. She pushed herself to her feet. “I do know someone who’s been in here. Or I did. My brother got an invitation to a feast once, but he never came back.”
A door on the far end of the room opened, and a man holding a shining serving platter stepped into the dining hall. The butcher turned around and called to the man. “You there, what’s the meaning of this? Why are we here?” The figure walked forward into the light. The light from the window caught the man’s jaw and reflected from the polished metal plate that covered the lower half of his face. He would not speak. Instead he stood there until the butcher approached him and found an envelope on the platter. He opened the envelope and read aloud its singular contents.
“One person from your village will be executed. Together, you will choose who dies.”